I transmigrated into a fantasy world as a doomed villainous mini-boss who was destined to die.
Every day, the System issued suicide missions: “Provoke the protagonist,” “Snatch his opportunities,” “Flirt with the Saintess.”
After ten years of keeping my head down, I eagerly claimed the ultimate mission: retire alive.
“Host's chance of surviving with enemies still alive: 0.03%. Please retire safely within ten years.”
I packed my bags that very night and ran. At the sect tournament, I played dead and forfeited.
The System suddenly announced a reward: “Congratulations on achieving the Perfect Fake Death feat!”
“You are hereby awarded one Withered Wood Token and one Withered Glory Pill to help you retire for good.”
The elders all froze as they watched me play dead on the awards platform.
Below the stage, my enemies nearly choked with frustration. “He's retired. Who are we supposed to get revenge on now?”
